Home
by fandom.vision
Summary: In the end, home is where your heart is. (A sequel to Berserker.) Rickyl (Rick/Daryl) relationship.


**Author's Note: I just couldn't help myself. I really wanted to continue after 04x16 "A" because gah! What a place to leave the story right?! So anyway, just some thoughts on what might be up with the crazy Termites. It all sounded good in my head lol**

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"_They're gonna feel really __**stupid**__ when they find out._"

The big red haired man, turned back and edged back toward the group, asking, "Find out what?"

Rick smirked ever so slightly.

"_They're screwing with the __**wrong**__ people._"

Looking over from the crack in the double doors in the side of the boxcar, Rick searched the resigned and weary faces of his family and felt intense satisfaction as Glenn, Maggie, Bob and Sasha's expressions slowly firmed with resolve. Behind him Michonne, Carl and Daryl inched closer to him. Their new friends looked wary, uncertain who or what he was, but Rick didn't miss the spark of hope in their eyes. Satisfied that morale was escalating, Rick turned his attention back to the door, studying the slivers of world that he could see through them. His mind was calm, calm and collected and _certain_ as it hadn't been in _far_ too long, as he studied everything from the building across from the boxcar to the edges of the doors that held them captive. There had to be a way to get out, and even if they couldn't get out on their own, there was always the option of coming up with a plan of attack.

Shuffling steps moved to his right. He didn't look up as Maggie moved forward, hugging first Michonne, then Carl and lastly Daryl. Glenn came forward and hugged everyone in the same order. Sasha and Bob came next and then the introductions went around for the new comers. To that Rick paid attention. Apparently, Tara, Eugene, Abraham and Rosita were pretty talented survivors themselves. Rick felt another smirk turn his lips. No. The people of Terminus had no idea who they were messing with. And they would be sorry they'd ever crossed paths with Rick's family.

"Is everybody okay?" Maggie was asking. Rick glanced around to see her examining the scrape on Carl's cheek. Carl held still for her, but said nothing. Michonne and Daryl's expressions were grim.

"Fine as we're gonna be," Michonne answered.

"They're as fine as can be expected considering whatever hell they've probably been through and the fact that they're locked up in here with us, waitin' on the dinner bell," the red head muttered again.

"We'll see," Rick said firmly, fixing the red head with an intense look. "Nothin' is set in stone in this world."

Maggie and Glenn glanced at each other, and then Maggie turned her attention back to Carl. It took him a moment, but when he finally met her eyes, she smiled warmly at him before hugging him tight again. Carl hugged her back, but his eyes were distant, and Rick wished helplessly for more time than they had.

Deciding that he wasn't going to get any more information from staring at the same cracks around the same doors, Rick turned and slowly started walking the perimeter of the car. Bob and Sasha slid away from the side and watched silently as Rick passed them. Rick kept his eyes on the side, alert for any indication of weakness. The double doors at the end of the boxcar were the same with the same type of light shining through all around them but no real evidence of them being able to be opened from the inside once they were closed and latched. As he trailed back up the other side of the car, he met Daryl halfway and stopped.

Daryl shook his head and glanced behind him once, the gesture quick. "Pretty solid. Not a lot of rust or anythin'."

Rick nodded, accepting Daryl's judgment. Daryl turned and leaned his shoulders and spine against the wall of the boxcar and after a moment, Rick did the same, pressing their shoulders together. Everyone was silent, weary and frightened, but the atmosphere was much less oppressive than it had been when he'd first stepped into their prison.

"So what have you guys been up to," Glenn murmured, coming over to them out of the shadows. The soft murmurs of Maggie, Michonne and Carl were coming from one side of the car while the other side remained silent.

Daryl glanced Rick's way once and when he took in Rick's neutral expression, relayed an abbreviated version of the story of their reunion. Daryl's eyes landed on Glenn and he shrugged. "I ended up with with a shitty group, but it was better than bein' alone. Found Rick cuz they was huntin' 'im. The four of us took care of it."

Glenn nodded but his eyes were studying Rick heavily in the dim light. "You okay?"

"Fine," Rick murmured and finally looked directly at Glenn. The young man looked suspicious, but when Rick reached out and patted Glenn's shoulder, the younger man didn't press any further. Rick wasn't honestly sure what he would have said if Glenn had pursued the subject. When Glenn had made it back over to his wife, Rick reached out in the darkness and very cautiously tangled his fingers with Daryl's, allowing their joined hands to hang limp between them. Daryl squeezed. Rick squeezed back both of them holding tight. It was a little awkward. They'd never been much for any type of affectionate displays with the others in the group so near, but Rick could feel Daryl's tension where their shoulders pressed tight together and to be honest, he was on edge as well. It was comforting to feel a skin on skin physical connection with someone he cared about. That it was Daryl just made it that much more soothing.

They hadn't been together long. Just maybe a week when the Governor ruined everything. They'd barely started before it was over. Losing Daryl had been devastating, and Rick had felt like he was limping along inside his own mind, staying alive just for Carl. Without his son, Rick wasn't sure he'd have continued fighting to survive. Rick was glad the decision had been out of his hands. Carl was a blessing in so many ways, and it was no small miracle that Daryl had been there that night. Rick didn't believe in God any more, but he did believe in some small amount of fate. If Daryl hadn't been there, Rick didn't know if he'd have been able to do what he'd done. Daryl's presence, as it had from the very beginning, had evened the odds for Rick, putting him into a position that enabled him to put a stop to a horrible situation. He could still hear the terrified whimpers of his son and every time those noises echoed in his memory, his blood boiled. It would be a long time before he lost the urge to viciously lash out at everything that threatened his family.

Wanting to rid his mind of those reverberating, whimpering sounds, Rick murmured, the sound of his own voice blessedly emptying his mind of memories for the moment, "We should round everybody up. It's goin' t' get cold tonight. We need t' huddle up and stay away from the doors. We don't want any surprises."

Daryl immediately nodded and gently pulled away from Rick before making his way over to Carl, Michonne, Maggie and Glenn. After a quick conversation, Glenn turned and moved over to the other end of the boxcar to speak with their new friends. Before long, everyone was settling around Rick's feet, leaving just enough room for the former deputy to sink down to sit beside his son. Carl leaned into Michonne and it appeared as though his eyes were closed. Rick watched him for a long moment before settling back and letting his head rest back against the wall of the boxcar. Daryl seated himself beside Rick, their shoulders and thighs pressed tight.

As the night wore on, the group pulled in tighter and tighter, seeking warmth and the comfort of physical nearness. Rick dozed, but never really slept. Beside him, Daryl seemed to be sleeping in the same useless fits and spurts as Rick himself. Sometime after light started to filter back in through the cracks, the sound of boots on gravel outside the boxcar brought him to a fully awake. It happened in the blink of an eye. Daryl tensed beside him and rose to his feet as if he and Rick were of the same mind. Around them, stirred by the movements of the two men, the others were starting to push themselves to their feet. The clang and rattle of the Terminus folks aiming to open the boxcar doors brought everyone to their feet that much faster. Glenn and Maggie looked to Rick as soon as they were on their feet. Carl reached out and laid a hand on the small of Rick's back under the jacket. Michonne stared the door down like a wild animal waiting for an opportunity to attack. By the time the rest of the group was on its feet, one of the doors was sliding open and two armed men were stepping inside.

"Ring Leader. You're comin' with us."

Carl's fingers tightened in Rick's shirt, and Rick immediately turned to face him, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on his son's still youthfully thin shoulder. His heart ached at the look of absolute terror in Carl's wide eyes. Michonne's presence loomed behind Carl, displeased and pissed and hopeless. "Carl. You _stay_ with Daryl and Michonne. No matter what happens. I _need_ t' know yer safe. Promise me."

Carl's eyes darted back and forth over Rick's calm and serious expression for just a moment before he dipped his chin just a fraction and threw himself into Rick's chest. "I…I promise."

Rick nodded, wrapping his arms tight around his son. Carl pulled away again quickly, and Rick turned to look at each of his people briefly in turn, offering them each one second of reassurance before his eyes landed on Daryl. The redneck's hand trembled as he raised it between them. Rick reached out, clasping forearms with the man who'd stood beside him like no one else Rick had ever known. Daryl's eyes were wet. Rick had been good about not letting the group's feelings of hopelessness get to him, but seeing Daryl about to lose it wasn't something he could deal with. If he didn't come back from wherever they were taking him, he didn't want the last memory the man had of him being a lousy "macho handshake." Using their joined arms, Rick hauled the other man in and hugged him tight with his other arm. Daryl stiffened for just a second before pressing in tight to Rick's body and wrapping his free arm around Rick's waist.

"It'll be okay, Daryl," Rick murmured into lank, greasy hair.

"Jesus fuck, come on already," one of the men snapped, reaching out and sinking his fingers into the shoulder of Rick's jacket. Rick stumbled backward with the force of the yank, and Daryl looked ready to murder the man, but as attuned as he was to Rick, the little staying gesture of Rick's right hand kept Daryl rooted to the spot. Catching his balance, Rick brushed the man's hand off his shoulder with a violent shrug. He tugged his jacket straight with a level glare in the guy's direction and stepped out of the train car without a backwards glance. The sound of the door rattling shut behind him didn't mask the shouted curse or the ringing sound of a fist hitting the metal wall of the boxcar.

Rick kept his eyes moving as he was marched through Terminus. It was a grouping of warehouses, fenced in and mostly secure. Clearly, with men on the rooftops and out along the fence line, the place was well-protected from intruders. Rick held his silence and went where he was directed, memorizing the way back to the rail cars as best as he could.

It seemed their final destination was an office inside the broadcast station Rick and his family had snuck into. The climb up the rattling stairs was filled with dread and determination. Whatever happened, Rick wasn't going down without a fight. It stood to reason, however, that if they really were taking him for slaughter, they wouldn't be letting him into the still plush office of their leader. Gareth stood at the window on the opposite wall from the office door. Rick got a none-too-gentle shove through the door, which he'd thankfully been half expecting and had braced himself for, and then it was just him and Gareth. The other man turned and the smile on his face reminded Rick of the Governor. It made his skin crawl, his teeth grind and something inside him that was already strained seemed to give just a little. The surge of clarity was a blessing.

"What do you want?" he asked, voice rough.

"I want to survive." Gareth's answer was smug. The idiot was too full of himself. Overconfident and pompous. "So, I made myself a little kingdom and here we are. Surviving."

When Rick said nothing, Gareth frowned. "Aren't you going to ask?"

Rick glanced over at the window, shuttered with partially open blinds, and ran a hand over his mouth and down his chin. "Don't know what you'd think I'd want t' know about all of this. It's pretty obvious."

Baiting. Gareth's face darkened. Bait taken.

"How we're so strong, maybe? Or how about how we're doin' so well when the rest of the world's gone completely t' shit? I mean, you've got t' have some questions about the things you saw on your little frolic through the compound!"

A passionate man was a dangerous man, but he was also a man who eventually lost sight of the real goals, the dangers. Rick settled one hand on his empty holster and settled most of his weight on that leg, bending his knee and pulling his shoulders forward just a bit. Shane and the other deputies of King's County had more than a few times told him that the pose made him look open and interested, casually so like he was your best friend, eagerly listening to whatever it was you had to say. It was a posture that had gotten more than one accidental confession out of shoplifters that were down on their luck and drug addicts who just really needed one more fix. "Well, go ahead then. Let's hear it."

Gareth ate it up like a starving man. "The defenses, obviously, are a big part of it. We've been raiding overrun military compounds and other survivors' camps from the beginning."

Rick nodded. "Smart."

Gareth seemed almost gleeful. "Of course it's smart. This is a dog eat dog world now. Survival of the fittest, and here we're all about…that."

This guy had no idea, Rick thought, but nodded. "I know."

"Of course you do." The other man sized him up and then folded his arms. The gesture screamed fake to Rick's instincts. This man wasn't going to be an easy take, but he wouldn't be too hard either. At least not from what Rick could gather.

"I like you," Garth said suddenly and then raised a hand to his mouth tapping his lips with his pointer finger before shaking it at Rick. "You've got some moxy, getting people like that piece of white trash and that cold, black bitch t' follow you so loyally. I could use a man like you."

Rick eyed the other man as he inched closer. Gareth stopped just inside Rick's reach, a grievous miscalculation. "You see, as you saw with my friend Alex yesterday, loyal _and_ _competent_ followers are hard to come by. I've got plenty of soldiers, but not a lot of generals."

Licking his lips, Rick glanced down at his boot tips, taking in that piece of information with something akin to relief, and then back up at Gareth. "And you want me t' be one o' yer generals."

"That's the general idea, yeah." The idiot seemed pleased with his pun. Rick let him have a half-amused smirk.

"What's in it for me?"

"I knew I liked you. Most of the folks I've signed on just jump at the chance, but not a man like you. You need information. Answers." The man was all smarm, and Rick did his level best to keep the urge to punch his nose up into brain off his face. "Let me give you the tour, and then we'll talk benefits."

"Benefits?" Rick inquired, a chill racing up his spine at even the thought of what those benefits could be.

"After. The tour," Gareth repeated, going for humor and managing annoying. Rick nodded and followed him out. They were immediately flanked by the two armed men that had brought Rick up to the office. The tour was long, involved and really only gave Rick a better feel for the lay of the land. Comments like "the food is plentiful" and "the ammo has yet to run out," really didn't give Rick much actual information. Still he took note of as many things as he could everywhere he went not the least of which were the fuel barrels in one of the emptier warehouses and that there really weren't that many people in Terminus. Maybe twenty to twenty-five in total. The last door they were pushing through did, however, give Rick a moment's pause just like the last time he'd come through that door. It was completely lit by candles. Names were painted all over the ground like a memorial. Some even had little details like numbers that could be ages and places that could be hometowns. The walls proclaimed vows of "Never Again," "Never Trust," and "We First Always."

"You see, Rick. Something like this? The Risen Dead, I mean, something like this is Biblical. The gods are angry, and we stay safe because we appease them."

Rick really didn't like the sound of that. "Appease them how?"

"Y'know," Gareth dissembled as he moved over to a thin but tall candle holder at the top of which sat one fat white candle, its flame flickering harder with every one of Gareth's breaths. At its base, in even white letters, was the name Amber Carrigan. "I asked myself that very question, the day the world went down in flames."

Rick's stance this time was impatient. He was getting tired of all of the preaching and bragging. "Yeah. And what was yer answer?"

"That the Aztecs and Druids might not have had it all wrong after all."

Rick's mind flashed back to the pile of desiccated bones they'd darted past in their mad dash for freedom. It hadn't occurred to him until now, but the whole ribcage he'd glimpsed through the tarps on their way by had seemed off. His mind hadn't processed why, just noted it and moved on in the heat of the moment. It occurred him now that it had seemed off because it had been. It hadn't been an animal ribcage at all, but human. Rick figured maybe Gareth really got the whole dog eat dog thing after all.

"Human sacrifice."

"Hey, it seemed to work well for the ancients. They didn't have nearly so many fucked up things to worry about back in their day. So far, it seems to be working. Terminus has been undead free for quite a while now. Oh, we get the occasional straggler, but for the most part, we haven't seen much of them."

Rick's mind frantically wondered if it was possible for a group of people to be so evil that even the Walkers steered clear. It was unlikely, but Rick wasn't discounting anything at this point. Nothing seemed impossible after the things he'd seen and done.

"About the benefits you mentioned…" Not that Rick really wanted to know, but every piece of information was a vital piece of the puzzle.

"Interested still?" Gareth's grin was wolfish. "Good. You seem like a reasonable and understanding kind of guy. You must come from good stock. Looking at your son, it seems you're able to pass those excellent genes on nicely too."

The mention of Carl in that leering tone of voice set Rick's teeth on edge. It was becoming a struggle to keep his face neutral. "He's a good kid. Tough."

"I saw." Gareth nodded. "Well, we'll need more like him. Part of the benefits package I offer here at Terminus is pick of the women I don't want myself. I have thirteen wives already, so really, how many more do I need?" The man laughed, and Rick suppressed the urge to cringe at the sound. Gareth's eyes landed on his left hand. "Does that belong to that black bitch?"

The note of disgust in Gareth's voice was grating. Rick looked down at his hand and for the first time in a long time actually saw the wedding band still snugged to the skin of his ring finger. His heart fluttered, the ache grown smaller with time to make room for other emotions and connections but still there when he poked at the barely scarred over wound in his heart. He'd never stop loving Lori, but he'd moved on. It was time to let go of that last thread to the man he'd used to be. Silently, he worked the ring off and turned it over in his fingers. After a moment, he slipped it into his jeans' pocket.

"My wife. Carl's mother. She died. A while ago. I just…"

Gareth made a sympathetic noise, cutting Rick off. "I understand, man. I get it. It's hard letting go, but moving on is part of survival. What was her name?"

Rick did cringe then. He really didn't want to give this man the name of the woman he'd loved, but big lies were a luxury he couldn't afford right now. Gareth seemed to equate the reaction with emtoins regarding Lori's death. "Lori. Her name was Lori."

"We'll make sure to put her name down in the memorial for ya," Gareth sounded like Rick was already on his payroll. Like this was an offer that Rick just couldn't refuse. "Now, let's go see about getting your son and you a place to stay."

Rick looked up from the ring in his fingers and took in the man before him. Gareth looked friendly, open and completely at ease. It would be so easy to just fall in line. To just, give in and become a part of this group. Rick could see it, how the people that had herded them into the area where the train cars waited had accepted a place among the group regardless of how insane their self-appointed leader was.

"What about the rest of the people in the boxcar?" Staying detached might keep Gareth from getting suspicious.

"None of the rest of them are worth keeping. The ones that were in there already were troublesome and too interested in the inner workings of Terminus to be good little sheep. Too set in the ways of the Old World. Too squeamish. You're not squeamish, are you?"

Rick shook his head. "Not in the least."

"Good. You do whatever it takes to survive, right?" Gareth nodded as if he and Rick were in agreement on the matter. They were, just not quite in the same way. "The two that came with you…We've got no use for those that aren't like us: good breeding, intelligent, tough…they're loyal, I'll give them that, but we've got a lot of mouths to feed and about the only thing they'd be good for is slave labor. We're not into that here. Too much work. They'll end up on the altar eventually, but hey, you and your boy will be all the safer for it."

"Those bones I saw…were they sacrifices?"

Gareth nodded. "Yes and no. We don't waste anything around here so they were sacrificed and then, well... You do what you've got to do to survive, remember?"

Rick's stomach churned, and he was infinitely grateful he'd smacked that fucking plate out of Carl's hands. "Yeah," Rick agreed, following him out. When they exited the room, a young man probably in his early twenties was waiting for them.

"Gareth. Three new arrivals at the gate. One of them's a _baby_."

Gareth looked surprised. Rick felt his heart surge with hope and dread in equal turns. Gareth looked over to him and then shrugged. "Looks like you're starting your training early."

Rick moved along with them almost in a daze. If it was Judith…who could she possibly be with? The answer came when they rounded one last corner, following the smell of grilling meat. Tyreese and, of all people, Carol, who held Judith while Mary cooed at the baby.

"Is she yours?" Mary was just asking, and Rick strode forward.

"No," he answered her himself and pulled the baby from Carol's stunned arms. "She's mine."

"Rick!" Carol gasped and behind her Tyreese looked elated. "The others?"

Hating what he was about to do, but knowing he had to get the group into a position of safety from which they could act, Rick ignored her, turning to Gareth.

"You'll want t' put these two in with the others. They're responsible for the murders of a few of my people before we lost our home. I banished them because they weren't t' be trusted any more. I was too lenient a man back then. I won't be makin' the same mistakes again."

"What the -?!" Tyreese sounded ready to explode, but Carol must have stayed him somehow, hearing all the things Rick couldn't say in the small lies he'd just told. Tyreese and Carol went quietly when Gareth nodded. Rick prayed that they ended up with Daryl and the others.

Gareth fixed Rick with an impressed stare. "You really do make beautiful offspring," he murmured and reached out to cradle the back of Judith's head. Rick's skin crawled, and he couldn't suppress the low growl that rumbled in his chest. It would have been much worse a reaction but Rick had managed to keep his rage and disgust bottle up at least that much. Gareth pulled his hand back and raised both hands in a placating gesture his expression amused. "Alright. Easy. Let's go get your son."

Judith, as they followed Gareth, looked around her with interested and wide eyes. Rick kissed her forehead and stroked her soft hair over and over, overwhelmed with this piece of good fortune. Carol and Tyreese were waiting at the bottom of the steps into the train car while one of the armed men pulled the door. If ever there was a time to attack it was now.

Gareth nodded to Rick, holding up a hand to the man behind Carol and Tyreese to stay him from putting the pair into the car. Rick moved forward and Gareth paced him until he was standing a few feet from the steps and just a step behind Tyreese. The guard behind the black man had all of the newly arrived pair's weapons, and Rick was well aware that the only guards beyond this little circle of people were those that might or might not still be on the other side of the chain link fence.

"Carl," Rick called. After a few long, hesitant moments, Carl slowly stepped up to the doorway and into the light. If the movement over his son's shoulder was any indication, Daryl was likely right behind him, hovering like a guard dog. Rick felt his heart squeeze. Acting like that could get Daryl shot on the spot. Daryl knew it. Rick knew he knew it, and yet there he was, hovering protectively at Carl's shoulder without a second thought. "Look, who I've got," he said, the happiness and delight true emotions.

"Judith!" Carl exclaimed, his eyes showing how confused and uncertain he was as he hesitated to step out of the car.

"Come here," Rick called softly and with only a glance behind him and presumably a nod from Daryl, Carl moved carefully down the stairs and over to take Judith from his father. Rick hugged them both close, lips brushing Carl's ear as he barely whispered. "Under the car. Behind the wheel."

And then Rick shoved him. Carl's sudden dash for the underside of the car kicked off the chaos as Gareth opened his mouth to shout. Rick turned on Gareth like a man possessed. Daryl was leaping out of the boxcar door and on the man who'd opened it in the blink of an eye, putting a quick and quiet end to the man and taking his gun. Tyreese turned on the man behind him using the distraction of the actions around him to gain the upper hand and take him down by using his weight as an advantage. The rest of Rick's family didn't waste any time leaping into the fray either. Carl, like the smart young man he was, had huddled under the train car with his sister in his arms and waited. As the dust of the scuffle settled, the interactions kept as quiet as possible through two years practice at quietly killing Walkers, Rick rose to his feet. Gareth's head was tipped at an odd angle. It wouldn't be long before he reanimated and who knew if their actions had attracted the attention of any of the other Terminus residents. Rick nodded as Carol put an end to the man Tyreese was pinning and near suffocating then opened his hand for her knife. She brought it to him without a word and he stepped over Gareth's corpse before kneeling. Michonne was at the end of the boxcar peering around and Rick glanced her way once. Her eyes met his after a brief second and she reported unasked.

"I don't see any guards out there but there's too much tall grass to be sure," she murmured.

Rick leaned forward and pressed his palm up into Gareth's chin, turning his eyes to Daryl. "Make sure. I need Michonne to have a clear exit so she can get Carl and Judith out of here."

"What are you going to do?" Carl asked, peering around from under the train car. His smart boy knew to stay low so that he could protect Judith as best as he possibly could. His smart boy could also sense that his father wasn't going to coming along. At least not right away.

"These are bad people. Even if we all get away, I believe they'll come after us. I'm sick of running from an enemy at every turn. I'm burning this fucking place to the ground."

Daryl stepped closer to catch Rick's eye and nodded to him. The others all seemed equally eager to help. Tyreese rose and offered Glenn one of the assault rifles from the man he'd helped to kill. Everyone looked ready to go and so Rick turned his attention to the corpse laid out before him. The blade of the knife sliced easily through the thin skin of Gareth's throat. In no time he was pulling his knife through the trachea, esophagus, fatty tissue and muscle. A gagging sound from behind him signaled the weak stomach of one of the new comers, a female by the sounds of it.

"Rick," Carol almost snapped. "What are you doing?!"

Daryl was already making his way to Michonne's side Rick noted and then turned his glancing eyes to Carol, his hands never stilling. "These people are cultists. They're cannibals. They're almost medieval in their ways. I'm sending them a message. A distraction in the form of a message."

Carol looked a little sad, but she nodded and turned her attention back to Michonne.

A moment later, Daryl laid down a stream of cover fire while Michonne and Carl made a mad dash for the fence with Tyreese and Abraham behind them to give them both boosts over the fences. Rick was pleased when he noted Michonne making a beeline for the buried bag of supplies. Turning his attention back to his remaining family, Rick nodded to them.

"We need to get our weapons from Gareth's main office." Slowly, Rick rose to his feet, Gareth's head hanging from his hand by its hair. "There are fuel barrels in warehouse C and only about twenty-three or so people are still out and about. Watch for roof shooters. I've got the welcome station."

In the end, the head rolling tactic had set off a chain of events that ultimately did lead to them burning all three warehouses down. They lost Tyreese in the process of freeing the other captives, and it infuriated Rick that they had lost another member of his family, but as a wounded whole they moved on, passing out of Terminus as it smoked and burned behind them. Rick had chosen to send those other captives packing in the opposite direction giving them only the firm advice to find their own territory and ways to survive. Michonne and Carl caught up with them just a few yards down one of the many sets of railroad tracks. Rick gladly accepted the Python back, sticking the revolver snugly back into its holster at his hip.

Then he turned to look at his gathered family.

They were a little bruised, a little battered, maybe even a little broken, but they were good people. This time when he took up his sheriff's deputy pose with one bent knee, a cocked hip and curled forward shoulders he meant every unspoken word of genuine attention. "We stick together. We watch each other's backs, and, before we know it, we'll be finding ourselves a new place t' live."

Everyone was nodding and Daryl patted his shoulder on the redneck's way by. He was clearly headed right for Judith and Carl who stood just to Rick's other side. It was heartwarming to watch Carl lean into Daryl's bent forward frame, their shoulders brushing as Daryl sweet talked to baby Judith and Carl teased him a little for it. The pair scoffed at each other and Daryl ruffled up Carl's hair.

Almost as one they all started moving back along the railroad tracks. They were quiet, but Rick could feel the groups high morale like a tangible thing in the air. Carl offered Judith up to her dad again after a moment and when Rick took her, Carl moved over to talk quietly with Michonne. Daryl came up beside him, and Rick gave him a small sideways smile. Daryl gave him a nod. In their language, it was a bold statement of endearment. Soon enough they would have a new, safe place to live. Home was wherever this group of amazing, tenacious people were, so even the side of the tracks counted for that. Rick found he'd gladly take that over something like Woodbury or the place going up in flames behind them.

End


End file.
